


married to amazement

by jollypuppet



Category: DRAMAtical Murder
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Riding, ren riding aoba is so important and it needed to happen ok
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-09
Updated: 2014-02-09
Packaged: 2018-01-11 18:32:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,058
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1176454
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jollypuppet/pseuds/jollypuppet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He's developed his own quiet sense of humor, and by that, he's <i>cheeky</i>, a stark, childish difference from Aoba's typical dry tongue.</p>
            </blockquote>





	married to amazement

**Author's Note:**

> Well, this happened. I didn't mean for it to, and I certainly didn't intend for it be this long, but I'm actually super happy with this.

Emotionally, Ren is an absolute marvel. Aoba says this to himself almost on a daily basis, when he's walking or at work or trying to wake up in the shower and Ren's combing his fingers through Aoba's hair and kissing his neck and being generally the most distracting human Aoba's ever met. Watching him grow is _fascinating_ in every way imaginable – the way he reacts to the world as he opens up to it more, accepts this reality as _his_ and learns to live in his skin like an owner and not a renter.

He's still calm and composed and quiet and patient, as he always was, and Aoba loves that about him. He's still doting and passionate and affectionate and oh so very physical in every aspect of his daily life, which is _awesome_ in literally every sense, in the way that he'll play with Aoba's fingers absentmindedly, lay a reassuring hand on his back or on his shoulder or on his elbow when he's concentrating. His face almost always finds the crook of Aoba's neck when they're sleeping, and his breathing shudders for a moment before calming down, always. He's amazed. He's so in wonder with the world, so in love with living.

Ren keeps evolving, keeps melding into something more and more beautiful. Every day, he becomes more incredible. Every step he takes is a step towards a complete, fully-realized _him_.

That said, and all poetry aside, Ren's developed some quirks that range from cute to downright _infuriating_ , in ways that only a really hot (and tall, but don't remind him about that) boyfriend can be. He's developed his own quiet sense of humor, and by that, he's _cheeky_ , a stark, childish difference from Aoba's typical dry tongue. It makes sense, that his sensibilities fit in together with Aoba's like a puzzle piece, but when they're used against him, oh, the _rage_.

Aoba's lying flat on his back, trying his best to not shake like a sex-obsessed lunatic, but it's really fucking _difficult_ , okay. He's got one arm thrown over his eyes, worrying his lip to the point that it'll probably be sore for a day or two (not that it wouldn't have been anyway, not with the way Ren bites at his lips and kisses him like fire and flooding and every awe-inspiring verse of every religious text.) He's suspended, currently, taking long, shuddering breaths that wrack his ribcage and hollow out his throat, damp with sweat and dark with bruises sucked down the length of his skin.

Ren, positioned above him and clearly enjoying himself, exhales casually, and it makes him so mad that he just wants to reach up and kiss the daylights out of him, until he forgets who he is and what his name is and where he's living and how to do anything. “Aoba,” he exhales, from deep in his stomach, permeating the air like a curse, and then, longer, suggestively, “ _Aoba_.”

“Give me a minute,” Aoba chokes out, trying to keep his hips from bucking upwards, and the effort it takes is making him shake. He takes his arm off his eyes to glare up at Ren. “You sure you don't practice or some --”

His words stick in his throat like sand, suddenly, and it's really hard to swallow, because _why was he blocking his eyes is he an idiot or something_. Ren's sitting there casually, like he's waiting for the perfect moment to strike at Aoba, to stage his grand finale, and the room is dark, save for a small wave of light filtering in from one of the streetlamps outside. It hits Ren at an odd angle, illuminates him in a way that makes him look sharper, darker. Sweat glistens on his skin, completely without clothes, save for that blue crystal necklace wrapped tightly around his neck. It bobs against the dip in his collarbone as he breathes, the erratic rising and falling of his chest the only indicator of his eagerness, and occasionally catches the light like some precious metal.

The skin around it is scattered with red marks that make their way up both sides of his neck and travel down his chest, over the bare muscles of his torso, weaved together to hold a soul foreign and new to it. They travel down the skin of his stomach and end near his hips, where Aoba's fingers are gripping and digging into the skin and bones there, desperate for movement and action and _now_ , _do it now_. Ren's cock drips eagerly onto Aoba's stomach, and he's got one hand loosely, slowly tugging at it. He's distracted, and he's amused, slowly riding Aoba with a rhythm that's deliberate, torturing, _not enough never enough move more please faster_ , like he's been meaning to do it for decades.

Aoba decides, then, that he's evil, or at least he has a little bit of evil inside of him, because when he looks up, Ren's eyes are dark, full of a thick affection and a deep need to tear Aoba apart like this, so he can kiss him and hold him and sew him back together afterward, and then just do it all over again. The depths of his eyes are endless, and he's got something of a smirk pulling at his lips, an expression that looks new on him, but at the same time looks so _nice_ that Aoba wants to kiss it away, breathe it into his own body and preserve it, as much as he wants to stare at it.

Ren pushes his hair out of his eyes with one hand, tilts his head into his free hand, and his bangs fall back over his forehead, and _fuck_ , when did he learn all of this? When he did he learn how to be seductive and shit, Aoba's almost twenty-five years old and he still ends up looking like a horny teenager when he tries to act seductive, but suddenly Ren looks like a porn star and he's laying there baffled because _he was part of me once why can't I do that_.

“Is something wrong?” Ren asks him, and it's innocent, the same tone he takes whenever he asks Aoba if something's wrong, if he's looking worried or tired or sick or sad, but there's a deep underlying tone of understanding, of vicious teasing that drives Aoba insane. He gulps loudly.

His hand shakily covers Ren's own over his cock and he tightens the grip, the strongest revenge he can afford at the moment, and a sound gets stuck in Ren's throat, his eyelids fluttering for a fraction of a moment. “No, nothing,” he breathes, “nothing's wrong, you little – _oh my God,_ do that again, do that --”

His words break off, pushed past by a loud, low moan as Ren grinds down on his hips suddenly, pushing him in deeper, the tightness and heat enveloping him and fraying at his mind, piece by piece, minute by minute. “That, you mean?” He hears Ren say it distantly, and feels his hand removed from around Ren's dick, brought up to his mouth instead. He licks at his fingers, already moist with precome and shaking more than before, and he sucks on them each individually as he starts to move again, a low rising and falling motion that throws Aoba into a rhythm of slow, agonizing need.

His hips start bucking up without him realizing it, and he brings his eyes back to watch the way their bodies connect, how they've been completing each other for so long in so many different ways. Ren's working his cock with one hand and using his mouth to suck on Aoba's fingers, in sync and deliberate through the whole thing, and small slivers of amber stare down at Aoba, boring through him in the darkness like lights across a misty sea.

He can't stand it, he can't _fucking_ stand it.

He sits up abruptly, and it almost makes him dizzy, how fast he does it. He takes his fingers from Ren's mouth, which is kind of disappointing, because Aoba's realized that Ren can work absolute _wonders_ with his mouth, but he brings his hand down to join Ren's again on his cock, wet with saliva and precome, and he kisses the absolute daylights out of him. It's harder to thrust up now that he's sitting, but he uses his free hand to grip Ren's hips with a vengeance, and it's enough of a signal for him to start moving faster, _harder_ , with more of a fervor that makes Aoba whimper into his mouth. Together they pump Ren's cock, matching the movement with the snapping of Ren's hips, and they kiss open-mouthed, wetly, swallowing each other's moans and destroying each other, bit by bit.

He gets a little carried away, maybe, and he tightens his grip on Ren's cock suddenly, rubs over the tip roughly, abruptly, and there's a deep, strangled cry that erupts from Ren's throat, claws its way out of him as he comes against Aoba's stomach _hard_. One hand finds Aoba's bicep and squeezes it, and he buries his face in Aoba's neck as he shakes through it, and Aoba wants to apologize, but at the same time, he doesn't, because it's two or three in the morning and Ren is exhausting in every good possible way and this is _payback_ , goddammit.

He twitches once, twice, their skin pressed together like it was meant to be together, always touching and warming and _one_ , and his insides clench as Aoba slides in once more, deep, clenching his teeth and throwing his head back. He comes loudly, a high whine filtering out between his gritted teeth, and Ren holds him tightly through it, waits for him to come down from it, patiently and attentively like he's always been.

They breathe.

They breathe into each other, inhale each other, fill each other up and let each other go, chests heaving, expanding and contracting, sucking in one part air and three parts atmosphere. Ren pants roughly against Aoba's neck and Aoba stares at the ceiling for a long time, until the ceiling fan, spinning slowly in the darkness, becomes one image and not three.

“You said you wanted to try that,” Ren breathes into his neck, pressing kisses to the skin there and sucking a couple more hickeys for good measure, and Aoba twitches, reflexively tilting his neck to give him more access. “Did you like it? It's fine if you didn't.”

“You can't be real.” Aoba sighs out, digging his fingers into Ren's hair. “There is absolutely no way I actually have a boyfriend who could do that to me and think I didn't like it, who even _are_ you.”

Ren chuckles. “I liked it, too.”  
  
He lifts his head and kisses Aoba, and that dark, teasing light has fled his eyes completely, replaced only by his normal affection, that deep, all-encompassing, unconditional love that Aoba basks in, wraps himself up in, _drowns_ in. He kisses deeply, lets all of his love pour into it. He's a force of nature. Aoba, to be honest, is a little overwhelmed by him.

His shoulders sag. He's so tired, so happily, amazingly, wonderfully tired.

Ren presses his forehead to Aoba's, and he sighs from deep in his throat, lets it out through his nose in one rush of air. “I love you. You're exhausted, aren't you?” Aoba nods a little bit, but he doesn't move to lie down, keeps Ren where he is. He touches his skin, lets his hands brush over every mark on his body, every contour of the vehicle that is _his_ , undeniably.

“I am.” he says, and kisses Ren shyly. “I am. I love you.” He kisses him again, and again, over and over, over his cheeks and his nose and his eyelids and his forehead, and he says it endlessly, like it's something brand new and incredible in his mouth. “I love you.” And again on his mouth. “I love you.”

Ren's changing every day, and he's evolving, he's becoming so much more than what he was when Aoba knew him as Restraint, when Aoba met him physically, when Aoba learned of his true nature, when he woke up, voiceless and so relieved in a hospital. He's growing stronger, taller, into something so much more.

Aoba loves him. Aoba loves him.


End file.
